“Please thank Mrs. Brickles for me.” I noticed a small nosegay of violets on the tray. “Did you pick these flowers?” I picked them up and held them to my nose so I could catch their delicate scent. Mr. Applewhite and I had decided that the violets at Hallington gave off a far better scent than other violets.
“Yes, miss,” the girl said. “The house seems so empty, and I just thought it would give more life to your room if there were flowers about. I like them too. My mum has a little garden of her own, and I’ve always been one for pretty flowers. She grows sweet peas that fill the whole house with the nicest scent. I would have gotten you some real flowers from the garden, but I’m scared of that old gardener. He guards those flowers like a dragon guarding his treasure.”
It was a good description of Mr. Applewhite’s attitude toward the flowers, though I’d never thought of him as fierce. He was a tiny man, wrinkled from years of outdoor work, given to talking to his favorite plants to coax them to grow. I’d learned everything I knew about plants from him.
Hannah went over to the window and opened the curtains. “My mum says flowers belong inside as much as they do outside. Someday I’m going to have a garden and a house so I can bring flowers inside too.” The girl was as chatty as Margaret had said. If the housekeeper had taken her to task for talking too much, it didn’t seem to have made much of an impact.
“Wait until June when the gardens are in full bloom,” I told her. “We’ll make sure we sneak lots of bouquets inside when Mr. Applewhite isn’t looking.”
“That would be nice.” Hannah gave a little squeak and pointed at the clock on the mantel. “I should go now. I have to start dusting before Miss Tanner complains. She’s very persnickety.”
The woman was persnickety, but I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to agree with Hannah. “Thank you again for the flowers.”
After she left, I gulped down my tea, wanting to get outside to see if there were more clues to the identity of the person I’d seen last night. When I went to the wardrobe to find something to wear, it held nothing except some old frocks of Margaret’s. Apparently my mother had carried through on her plan to get rid of items that were too small for me, but had not replaced them with anything new.
Margaret’s castoffs were all of the garden party variety, not suitable for anything except standing about wishing one could eat the whole tray of muffins rather than just the one that it was polite to take. And none of them suited me. Margaret had excellent taste for what looked good on her, but none of her clothes were right for me in style or color. I grabbed one anyway. My choices were that, one of my school uniforms, or a dress meant for funerals. I put it on, catching sight of myself in the looking glass. Yes, definitely not suited for wielding a trowel, but it would have to do.
As I was trying to get my hair under control, I heard barking outside. Jove never barked except when someone or something who didn’t belong came onto the property, which usually meant the occasional lost hiker. Few people had the time to hike with the war on. I felt a little twinge of unease. What if the intruder was back?
The barking increased. I hurried outside just in time to see Jove running across the front lawn, ears flattened and tail down. He was too old and too wheezy to run that fast. It couldn’t be good for him. I ran after him, calling for him to stop. As I drew close to the road, I wasn’t watching the ground, so I didn’t see the muddy spot where the grass thinned. My feet went out from under me and I sat down hard on the ground. It hurt, and a few words I wasn’t supposed to use slipped out of my mouth.
When cold water seeped up around me, I realized I was in a shallow puddle. I tried to get back up but slipped again, managing to get the front of my dress muddy to match the back. More bad words. They didn’t make me feel better. I was a wet, muddy mess.
Scrambling back up, I saw that Jove was near the edge of the property. Whoever or whatever he’d been chasing was not in sight. I yelled for the dog to stop, knowing he was near the road, but a squadron of planes coming from Cranwell drowned out my voice. Jove crossed the road and continued into the field on the other side of it.
I ran into the road, still calling for him to stop. Then, to my horror, an automobile, an open roadster, came around a sharp curve only feet away. The driver slammed on the brakes and swerved off the road, barely missing a tree.
I skidded to a stop, nearly falling down again. My throat tightened until I saw both people in the car were still upright and moving their heads. “I’m so sorry!” I yelled.
A man in a uniform got out. His hair was short and he looked tired, so much more tired than when I had last seen him, but I knew him. “Andrew!” I flung myself at him and hugged him, forgetting I was covered in mud.
“Mina?” he said. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he moved me a bit away from him. He stared at my face. “I didn’t recognize you at first,” he said. “You’ve grown.”
Someone laughed behind him and I turned my attention to the young man still in the car. He grinned. My heart did an odd little skip. It was the American from the train.
“Yes, the young lady is quite grown,” the young man said, hopping easily over and out of the car, not bothering to open the door. He was dressed in a suit now, though he still wore the cowboy boots.
As he stood there staring at me, I realized that I must look a fright with all the water and mud on me. I could feel my ears turning hot, which meant red too. Just what I needed—bright red ears to go with the gray-brown mud. “I fell when I was chasing Jove. It rained and it was slippery and then I fell again trying to get up.” I didn’t know why I was going into such detail. The American was smiling as if it was funny I’d fallen. I saw then that I’d gotten mud on Andrew’s uniform.
“Why is he with you?” I asked Andrew. I knew it was rude of me to be so blunt, but I couldn’t get over my shock. I hadn’t expected to ever see the American again.
“Mina, this is Lucas Miller,” Andrew said. “He’s over from America. Lucas, Lady Thomasina Tretheway.”
“We’ve met,” Lucas said. “In a way. I know the young lady doesn’t smoke and she wishes she could grow turnips and she doesn’t live in a castle. Back in Oklahoma, that would be enough to call ourselves friends.”
“I don’t understand. You’ve met?” Andrew sounded completely confused. “How?”
“We shared a compartment on the train, though we weren’t properly introduced,” I said, not even attempting to explain about the turnips and the other nonsense. I looked at Lucas. “In England, asking someone to yell out the window at them isn’t considered an introduction. I was just being polite when I responded. Etiquette lessons, you know: Always yell at people when asked.”
While I was speaking, Jove came back and immediately went to Lucas, wagging his tail as if greeting a long-lost friend. What was wrong with the dog? He was supposed to be suspicious of strangers, especially cheeky Americans.
“Very polite of you,” Lucas drawled as he petted the dog. “So we have been introduced now, haven’t we? How do you do, your ladyshipness?”
I was about to tell him he didn’t need to call me that when the creaking of a cart’s wheels warned me someone else was coming along the road. I looked toward the sound and spotted the county gossip, Mrs. Underdown, in her pony cart. As usual, the woman sat bolt upright, dressed in one of her vaguely nautical ensembles in homage to her late husband, the admiral. She lived in the village but found reasons to drive her cart everywhere on various missions of goodwill, guiding her little shaggy black pony as if commanding a battleship. Thank heavens she hadn’t seen me hugging Andrew. It would have been all over the neighborhood by nightfall.
“Lady Thomasina! I heard you were back,” Mrs. Underdown said as she pulled up. “Good heavens! Is everything all right?” she asked, looking me up and down and then glaring at Andrew. Her expression changed when she recognized him. “Lord Andrew, forgive me. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“How are you, Mrs. Underdown?” Andrew asked.
“Let me introduce you. Mrs. Underdown, this is Lucas Miller,” Andrew said.
“How do you do?” she said. I knew she was waiting for more information. I was too.
Andrew didn’t give it. “It’s very nice to see you again,” he said instead. “I’m sorry we can’t stay to talk, but we must get on our way. War work, you understand.” That was the polite way of saying she shouldn’t ask any more questions.
Mrs. Underdown mimed zipping her lips. “Oh, war work. Hush, hush. I understand. Of course you’re on your way to Cranwell. Where else would you be going? I didn’t know you were an aviator, Lord Andrew. And you, young man, are you an aviator too? I didn’t know there were any American aviators at Cranwell.”
So much for not asking any more questions. Both Andrew and the American looked at a loss for words, and guilty too, for some reason.
“Lucas designs aeroplanes,” Andrew said suddenly. “He’s quite a genius at it,” he added, stumbling over the words and blinking several times as he said them. I stared at him. He wasn’t telling the truth. Andrew had always been nearly as bad at lying as Margaret. When he and Crispin were in trouble, Crispin had been the one to try to talk their way out it, because Andrew couldn’t keep his voice steady when he told an untruth. Lucas didn’t look much older than me and he didn’t look like a genius, though I confess I’d never met one. So which part was the untruth? Designing aeroplanes? Being a genius? Or both?
Of course Mrs. Underdown didn’t question Andrew. She would believe anything he said, no matter how absurd, because he was the son of a marquis. Rank had many privileges. “Are you staying at Cranwell or at Hallington?” she asked.
“Hallington,” Andrew said. “Cranwell is short on space. It’s wonderful that Lord Tretheway is always so welcoming to old friends.” His eyes were fixed on mine.
Old friend needs your help. Andrew was the old friend in the telegram. I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me that it would be him, except that the phrasing “old friend” made me think it was someone we hadn’t seen for a long time, or someone who was actually old. The fact that it was Andrew was wonderful.
Mrs. Underdown smiled like she’d been given a present. “How lovely,” she said. “Lady Thomasina, I’m so delighted you and your sister are both home. So unexpected! But it’s turned out to be very convenient timing. Now that you are both home, I’ll call later today to discuss something very important with the both of you.”
“Margaret is here?” Andrew sounded horrified at the news. I didn’t understand why. He and Margaret had never been great friends, but they had tolerated each other.
“Yes,” I said. “It was unexpected, from what I understand.” I wanted to take back the words as soon as I saw Mrs. Underdown’s eyes narrow and her mouth twitch. I knew that look. I’d seen it many times, whenever Mrs. Underdown realized she hadn’t been told everything. The woman would want to know why Margaret’s arrival had been unexpected, and she’d stop at nothing to find out. She was ruthless at ferreting out information.
I really wanted to know why Andrew and Lucas had come to Hallington, and I needed to get rid of Mrs. Underdown so I could ask. “I think I’m catching a chill,” I said, adding in a shudder for effect. “I need to get back to the house to change.”
But my ploy didn’t exactly work as I had hoped. “Of course, Lady Thomasina!” Mrs. Underdown said. “How thoughtless of me to keep you standing here. Climb in the cart and I’ll take you right to your front door while Lord Andrew and Mr. Miller deal with the automobile.”
I’d completely forgotten about the vehicle. “It isn’t damaged, is it?” I asked, feeling guilty.
Andrew surveyed the automobile. “I don’t think so.” He motioned to Lucas. “Let’s see if we can get it back on the road.”
I climbed into the cart as the two of them went back to the automobile. Jove stayed with them, sticking close to Lucas as if the American was his new owner. Ungrateful animal. If Jove had been chasing the intruder, he’d completely forgotten about him, or decided he’d properly secured the grounds by chasing the man off.
On the short ride up the driveway, Mrs. Underdown chatted away, but I could hardly force myself to listen. I looked back and saw Andrew’s car turn into the drive. I wanted to jump down from the cart and run, just to get rid of some of the excitement that was filling me up. Andrew was here, and the American too, and I’d finally be part of something important.
CHAPTER
FIVE
I THANKED MRS. UNDERDOWN when she let me off and she drove away, waving as Andrew and Lucas came up the drive in the opposite direction, Jove trotting behind the car.
They stopped at the bottom of the steps, but before I could demand some explanations, Margaret opened the door and came out in a hurry, as if she had been waiting for someone. From the look on her face, I knew it wasn’t Andrew.
Lucas and Andrew got out. This time Lucas used the door instead of hopping over it. Jove caught up and sat down at Lucas’s feet with what could only be described as a worshipful expression.
“Hello, Margaret,” Andrew said. He took out his cigarette case and opened it, but then closed it again without taking a cigarette. When he went to put it back in his pocket, he dropped it. “I didn’t realize you’d be here,” he said as he picked it back up. “Lord Tretheway suggested we stay while we are in the area. I hope it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all,” Margaret replied. It was clear she didn’t mean it.
Andrew gestured at Lucas. “This is Lucas Miller from America. Lucas, this is Lady Margaret Babington.” He made a motion as if he was going to get his cigarette case back out, but stopped himself before he did. It wasn’t like him to be so jittery.
“Pleased to meet you,” Lucas said.
Margaret nodded to him. “How do you do?” Her tone was as chilly as I had claimed to be.
Hannah practically skipped out the front door. She stopped short when she saw Lucas. Her eyes widened and her mouth curved into a smile. He smiled back. I half expected him to wink at her.
“Yes, Hannah?” Margaret snapped.
Hannah gave a tiny bob and said, “Miss Tanner asked to see you about dinner.”
“I’ll be in shortly. Go tell Miss Tanner she needs to get two rooms ready for our guests.” Hannah smiled again at Lucas, but I noticed he was too busy looking up at the house to catch her expression. Her mouth turned down and she went back inside.
“I’m afraid things aren’t quite as they should be since we have so little help,” Margaret said to Andrew. “We’re not set up for houseguests.”
“Don’t apologize. We’ll just drop off the bags inside,” Andrew said. “And there’s no need to give us lunch. We need to get to Cranwell. We’re running late.”
Lucas didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to leave. I saw Jove had brought him a stick. Lucas reached down and took it from the dog, then lobbed it off into the grass. Jove loped after it.
“Fine,” Margaret said. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see Miss Tanner.” As she hurried back inside, I realized that she hadn’t noticed I was covered in mud.
Jove brought the stick back. “Nice dog,” Lucas said to me. “Nice house too. It’s almost a castle. I can see I’ll have to mind my manners here.” He smiled at me. “I’m sure no one yells out windows or anything like that.”
“If you yell properly, you’re allowed,” I said. “Lines from plays are acceptable. Random greetings and such are not.”
“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” Andrew shook his head as if he was trying to clear it. “Lucas, we need to go.”
“I’ll show you where to put the bags,” I took them inside, to the small anteroom where the footman used to sit. “You can leave them here. Someone will take them upstairs later.”
I followed them back outside, expecting Andrew to tell me why they were there and
how I could help.
Instead, he said, “We’ll be off, then.”
“But, but…” I started to say something about the telegram and then I realized I shouldn’t. Not until I knew more. Maybe the American wasn’t part of it.
I watched them drive away. When they were halfway down the drive, Lucas turned around and waved. Jove lay down at the bottom of the steps, the stick beside him, looking as dejected as I felt. So much for an exciting day. I picked up the stick and threw it for him, but he didn’t get up. He just stared down the drive as if he was going to stay put until Lucas returned.
“Fine,” I told him. “Go ahead and forget who used to play hours of fetch with you.” My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I went up to my room, changed into another of Margaret’s old dresses, and then went down to the breakfast room.
Hannah came in almost immediately after I did, carrying a toast rack. She put the toast on the sideboard and said, “Cook says if you want more jam, just ring. She knows you are very fond of the strawberry. I have to say I’m fond of it too, that and plum as well. Oh, and pear. I don’t like quince jam at all, though.”
“I don’t like quince either,” I said.
“Mrs. Brickles is happy you’re home. She said she has a good excuse to make some more jam tarts now. She’s cranky when there is no one here to cook for. Last time your father was home, she was in a good mood for two whole days.” Hannah checked the chafing dish with the eggs in it. “Do you think your father will come back soon? It’s very exciting when he comes here with all the important people.”
“I don’t know when he’ll be back,” I said. “It must be extra work for you when guests are here. I know there isn’t enough staff.”
“I don’t mind. I’m used to hard work. I don’t like it when it’s too quiet. I was hoping your sister would bring her sweetheart to dinner.”
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